


Serendipity

by epeolatry



Series: Halcyon Days [8]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1932657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epeolatry/pseuds/epeolatry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan and Grantaire are having a quiet night in. Feuilly and Bahorel are having a messy night out. Pooling resources is never a bad idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serendipity

Jehan and Grantaire were just getting to that crucial point. Jehan had two fingers inside and was teasing with a third and Grantaire was trying desperately to be patient but that kind of self control was really fucking hard when Jehan kept ever so softly pressing _right there_ and if Prouvaire didn’t get on with it soon Grantaire didn’t know what he'd do but he certainly wouldn't be held responsible...

 

On the other side of the door Bahorel shoved Feuilly up against the wall, groping in the pocket of the red head’s jeans ostensibly for a key to the flat but also just for fun. Finally giving in to his lover’s heated groaning Bahorel withdrew the key and they tumbled together through the door, Bahorel practically ripping out Feuilly's jugular and thinking by god if he didn’t get to fuck Feuilly _right now_ …

 

“Lube?” Bahorel demanded, breath hot against a rising bruise on Feuilly’s throat.

 

“Shit…”

 

Feuilly knew for a fact that there was none in his room because he’d tried to have a wank that morning and found the tube empty. He’d jerked off anyway of course but it just wasn’t as satisfying without the cool, slick glide of lube, and… _shit_ , he was so fucking hard.

 

“Jehan’ll have some in his room,” Feuilly gasped, “He’s out tonight, we’ll just borrow it.”

 

Feuilly had a split second between pushing open Jehan's bedroom door and actually taking in what was happening on the bed when he wondered why Jehan had left his light on. Then his mind went completely blank.

 

"Fuck sake, hurry up you teasing little shit, I- oh." 

 

Bahorel bowled into the room and for a moment all four men simply stared at each other; Grantaire was naked and on his knees, his hair awry and his skin flushed, and Jehan had half his hand buried inside the artist and was wearing only a lacy thong which barely contained his hard cock. Bahorel was shirtless and bloody, his lip split and frozen in a disbelieving grin, and Feuilly was bright red, his mouth hanging open just like his trousers, which Bahorel had got halfway through divesting him of before he'd run off to find the lube.

 

"Gentlemen," Jehan greeted them with a smile.

 

"Fuck," Bahorel said succinctly.

 

"Uh, sorry," Feuilly stammered, but his apology was interrupted by Grantaire's loud moan as Jehan evidently twisted his fingers and brushed over the artist's prostate.

 

"We should- "

 

"Would you like to join us?" invited Jehan, "Or you can just stay and watch if you prefer. ‘Aire likes that, don't you darling?" He twisted his fingers again and Grantaire bucked on his hand, moaning, " _Yes_."

 

Feuilly and Bahorel exchanged a Look. They were both hard and more than ready for it. The Look then extended to Jehan, whose lips curved into a catlike grin.

 

"Bahorel, come here," commanded Jehan, though his tone made it seem more like a request. Bahorel sauntered over and sat on the bed next to the poet, unable to take his eyes off those slender fingers disappearing inside Grantaire.

 

"You take over. Your fingers are much thicker than mine, let's see how much he can take."

 

Bahorel didn't even need the lube in the end; Jehan already had Grantaire so well slicked that his thick fingers just slid right in, making Grantaire groan and squirm, arching his back in pleasure as Jehan smiled smugly.

 

"Feuilly, won't you join us?"

 

Feuilly's mouth was still hanging open and he was breathing hard, his pupils dilated and his dick twitching clearly through his open trousers.

 

"Wh-where do I..?"

 

"If you'd be so good as to kneel in front of Grantaire. He likes to have something in his mouth while he's being fucked and Bahorel's fingers are otherwise occupied."

 

Feuilly knew that, of course he did, he'd slept with Grantaire enough times to know that, but it didn't make Jehan's casual narration of the fact any less _fucking hot_. Grantaire moaned obscenely as Bahorel began scissoring his fingers, apparently mesmerized, while Jehan surveyed all with a serene smile. Feuilly peeled off his shirt and pulled his trousers off before climbing onto the bed in front of Grantaire. The artist was a mess. His dark curls were disheveled more than usual, his stubbled face was flushed a blotchy red and his eyes were dilated so much that Feuilly almost stopped to ask if he was high. He smiled vaguely up at Feuilly who leaned down to kiss him, the chaste peck quickly becoming dirty as Grantaire opened his mouth under Feuilly's and their tongues clashed.

 

Then Grantaire broke the kiss with a loud groan and Feuilly looked up to see that Bahorel had sunk deeply into Grantaire, the larger man's face a picture of barely withheld ecstasy.

 

"Feuilly. If you would, please?" Jehan pointed at Grantaire's mouth, which was currently occupied running through a litany of extravagant curse words.

 

With a grunt, Feuilly shifted back up to his knees and pushed his cock in front of Grantaire's face. He was immediately pulled into Grantaire's eager mouth, and he let out a groan of his own at the artist's skill with his tongue, even while Bahorel fucked into him savagely from behind. Feuilly was losing his mind, the sensations of being sucked off coupled with the sight of one of his best friends being fucked by the other almost too much. Then Grantaire was shoved violently forwards and he gagged on Feuilly's cock, making Feuilly both groan and pull away in concern. He quickly saw what had caused the sudden shift in rhythm; Jehan had pressed a slick finger into Bahorel, evidently without warning the boxer first, judging by the noise he had made and the surprised snap of his hips into Grantaire.

 

"Shhh," soothed Jehan, working Bahorel open. The boxer's look of surprise quickly melted back into the closed eyes and slight frown of pure ecstasy. As Feuilly guided his cock back into Grantaire's mouth the redhead realised that Bahorel was rocking himself between Grantaire and Jehan, fucking forwards then fucking himself backwards.

 

"Come on darling," whispered Jehan, working quickly and making Bahorel groan.

 

"Fuck me," Bahorel swore weakly, and Feuilly wasn't sure if it was an invitation or an oath but Jehan seemed to interpret it as the former, lining himself up and sliding into the boxer with no further preamble.

 

After that it was all a blur of sweat and the slap of skin on skin, the four of them somehow finding a rhythm and rocking into it, Grantaire's moans muffled as Feuilly and Bahorel both swore liberally and Jehan dreamily recited encouragements and endearments to them all. Feuilly guessed that Bahorel came first, but it was hard to tell because he had barely registered Bahorel's grunt of orgasm before his own was upon him, Grantaire swallowing all of it down gladly and continuing to suck lightly until Feuilly pulled away, exhausted and too sensitive to go on. Bahorel stayed where he was, still rocking back into Jehan's thrusts and stroking Grantaire until the artist began to whimper and Jehan murmured, "You can come now love."

 

Grantaire came with a yowl, sounding almost as though he was in pain but for the look of bliss on his face. Feuilly kissed him through it, vaguely hearing Jehan's surprised sounding cry a moment later and Bahorel's moan as the slighter boy slipped out of him. The four of them collapsed, panting, in a heap on the bed, Grantaire seemingly only semiconscious as he groaned and twitched under Bahorel's heavy, affectionate arm over his chest. Feuilly was almost dozing when a familiar, drink roughened voice growled quietly, "As much as I love sleepovers, one of you is gonna have to shift onto the floor. I’ve got pins and needles in places they shouldn’t be."


End file.
